Of Hoodies and Heels
by Fallaby Z
Summary: If Santa Claus had a daughter, she'd be full of sugar and spice and everything nice, right? Wrong. Lucky for her, though, Jack's there to bring the fun back in.
1. Gingerbread Men

**I watched the movie today, fell in love with it, and churned out this chapter immediately afterward. Tell me what you think!**

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**1. Gingerbread Men**

"To celebrate our victory, let's all congregate and spread some good Christmas cheer with some cookies and milk, whaddya say?" North let go of the reins, grinning his head off, to elbow Bunny in the gut.

Bunny puckered his lips, turning slightly green as the sleigh swerved and several reindeer crashed into each other, the jingling of the bells disappearing into a cacophonous symphony of growls and the gnashing of teeth. Apparently, reindeer were much more vicious than the legends claimed.

"Okay, whatever, just-for Easter's sake, _steer the dang sleigh_!" This time, the bunny rabbit did indeed lean over the edge of the sleigh to empty the contents of his stomach. Collapsing against the benches as Tooth fretted over him in her usual hyperactive way, he muttered, "Should've taken the quick way out" before curling up into a large gray fur ball.

"Aw, is ole Bunny feeling a wittle under the weather?" Jack taunted, balancing on the end of the sleigh in his usual daredevil manner.

Bunny grumbled something unintelligible but, for the most part, ignored the newly-inaugurated Guardian, continuing to hold his head in his arms.

Sandy, ever the peacemaker, patted Jack's shoulder and shook his head gently. _Now is not the time_, he seemed to say.

Rolling his eyes but leaving the Easter Rabbit in peace (they had just defeated Pitch, after all), Jack blew a flurry of snowflakes into the air and watched Wind chase them away.

Tooth was sitting near the driver's seat, chatting with North avidly. "You know, I normally don't condone sweets, but Mrs. Claus's cookies are so delicious I just can't resist."

North chuckled proudly, his cheeks glowing a ruddy pink. "Yeah, she really is something, isn't she?"

"Hold up." Leaping the length of the sleigh, Jack stuck his head in between North and Tooth, the bound causing another minor commotion with the reindeer and eliciting a loud, exaggerated groan from Bunny. "There's a _Mrs. Claus_?" He blinked several times when North nodded twice, grinning. "But I've never heard of a _Mrs. Claus_before!"

"Well, that's because she doesn't really have any special powers," Tooth added, "and she's halfway human."

Sandy blew up a giant image of a cookie and nodded his head wildly. "Oh, but her cookies really are excellent," the fairy amended enthusiastically.

"Halfway human?" Jack repeated disbelievingly, his staff clattering to the floor of the sleigh and barely missing Bunny's tail. "How can someone be _halfway human_?"

"Courtesy of The Man," North explained, "Ellie isn't magical, but she'll-careful there, Rudolph!-live as long as me." As Santa's Workshop came into view, he grinned widely. "We're _hooooooome_!"

As if goaded on by the promise of a warm shed and food (Jack wasn't sure if they ate hay like normal animals or if they lived on candy canes or something), the reindeer clicked their heels, soaring downwards and landing bumpily into the large "landing pad" protruding out from the top of the workshop.

The Sandman dragged Bunny out, who hurled a mess of something disgusting and distinctly orange-colored once more over the cliff, while Tooth flitted quickly inside the open door, her band of baby teeth following her, chirping ecstatically. North began unhooking the reindeer expertly, rubbing them down and shooing them into their respective stalls, warm and lit with floating yellow orbs.

"So, North," Jack started again, sticking his hands in his pockets, "if there's a _Mrs. Claus_, is there...I mean, I remember you said you didn't have time for kids, but..." He shuffled his bare feet around awkwardly. "Is there a mini-Claus?" Jack imagined a young boy with North's thick, dark eyebrows, a boy to run around the workshop with and play with all day. After all, he _was_staying at the North Pole indefinitely.

"A mini-Claus!" North guffawed uproariously, clutching his corpulent belly and inadvertently slapping a reindeer's back. The reindeer's nose flashed a brilliant red and it lashed out, kicking the man in the rear.

"Hey! Rudy! Cool it," Santa Claus commanded, his dark eyebrows drawing together closely as he rubbed his aching behind, "or you won't get any extra carrots for your good behavior today."

"Rudy" gave his boss a distinctly unhappy look, spitting a gooey glob of drool at the man's feet before slinking back into his stall, marked with a wooden plaque that said "Rudolph". North shook his head sadly. "The boy's one of my best fliers," he remarked out of the corner of his mouth to the white-haired boy, "but he really only likes my daughter."

"Your daughter!" Eyes wide, Jack followed the large man as he stamped through the door and into a well-lit hallway, equipped with rows and rows of hooks and covered in a cheery red carpet.

"Take off your shoes here," North instructed, sitting on a nearby stool to yank off his sopping wet boots, revealing a pair of red and green socks. He stood, hanging his large fur coat up on one of the empty hooks. "My wife scares even the Yeti when we track snow into her part of the workshop."

"Well, one, I don't_ have_shoes," Jack pointed out dryly, "and two, who's your daughter?"

"She's merry, of course!" North replied, as if that explained everything. (Jack wasn't sure if "merry" was an adjective or a name.) Then with an earsplitting roar, the grizzled old man yelled, "_Honey, I'm home_!"

"Goodness gracious, you needn't yell so loudly. I'm right here." A small head filled with faded blonde curls poked out of a side door near the end of the room. "Oh, are you Jack?" The door opened wider, revealing a small, older woman with a kindly smile. She wiped her hands, dusted with flour, gingerly on her checked apron. "Welcome. I am Mrs. Claus. Come in, it must be cold."

A little dazed (_Mrs. Claus is tiny_, Jack thought), the young boy mumbled, "I don't _get_cold" but followed the graying woman into a large, almost stiflingly warm library. Bunny had made himself comfortable by the roaring fire, while the baby teeth flitted about, examining the nooks and crannies of the giant room. Tooth was nowhere in sight; Sandy, also by the fireplace, dozed off, a decapitated gingerbread man hanging halfway out of the corner of his mouth.

North pushed past Jack to settle himself into one of the large armchairs. "Come, Frost, make yourself comfortable," he insisted, waving the boy into one of the chairs opposite of him. "Have a cookie."

The large platter on the equally enormous table was filled with an assortment of cookies: sugar, chocolate chip, peanut butter, frosted pecan...as well as a small army of crooked and fairly creepy-looking gingerbread men.

Jack picked one of them up doubtfully, glancing at Mrs. Claus, who was filling a large mug of eggnog for her husband. _These_were the raved-about cookies? Sure, the other cookies looked nice, but the gingerbread men...

He glanced back at the cookie. The gingerbread man grinned back at him, taunting him. _Not man enough to take a bite out of me?_they seemed to mock with their crooked little smiles.

_Well, here goes nothing_, Jack thought, and took a large bite out of the cookie. More accurately, he tried to take a bite out of the decorated dessert, and in doing so, almost broke a tooth. "Ouch!" He clutched his sore jaw, letting out a series of unorchestrated yelps as Tooth's chipper voice came closer.

"North!" Jack hissed, now attempting to break the rock-hard gingerbread men in half. "What_ are_these cookies? They're harder than ice!"

"Oh," North took one look and laughed sheepishly, edging slowly away from the cookie platter where the demonic cookies sat. "Those are-"

"...and those bicuspids! Oh, they were delightful, Merry! I've decided to go back into the field starting tomorrow; isn't that great?" Tooth entered the room gesturing wildly, the milk she held in her hand almost sloshing out of its glass.

"That's wonderful, Tooth," a new voice answered, causing Jack to pause in his antics and North to freeze in almost comical fear.

A young, slender girl, slightly taller than the aging Mrs. Claus, walked into the library holding yet another platter of burnt gingerbread men. She had Mrs. Claus's hazel eyes and long hair that matched the color of North's eyebrows: dark, dark to the point it was almost black, but not quite. On her feet were a pair of plain black heels, tall enough to give a wobble in her step.

The resemblance, however, was almost uncanny; Jack could tell with one look that this girl was her father's daughter, but a sterner version. Even when she smiled in response to something that Tooth had said, her mouth merely twitched and curved slightly upward.

"Your daughter's cute," Jack remarked, forgetting about the inedible gingerbread as he watched this interesting specimen come closer.

"She's not _cute_. She's beautiful," North corrected, his face the perfect image of a proud, doting father. "But if you dare make a move on her, I swear I'll put Rudolph on you, and he's a feisty one."

"Do you not trust me?" Jack asked with a sad, mocking frown.

North snorted. "You may have saved Christmas, but you're still Jack Frost."

Santa Claus's daughter reached the table and plopped the tray of crooked gingerbread men down. "Papa, did you try my gingerbread?"

_Ah_, Jack thought, looking down to his cookie before stuffing it stealthily under the cushion of his armchair. _That explains it._

"O-Oh!" North was flustered and tried to bluff his way out of it. Evidently, he was not a good liar. Jack sighed, shaking his head at the man's dismal efforts. "Uh, yeah, honey, they were, uh, great!" Nicholas St. North cried, rubbing his head nervously. "Delicious! Almost as good as Mama's!"

Unconvinced, she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Really, Papa?" Suddenly, the bell she wore around her neck jingled, and she pressed a button on the headset in her ear, pausing to listen to the message.

"What?" she exclaimed indignantly, turning her back to her father, who immediately attempted to sneak some of the burnt cookies to the elves. They backed away, though one of them chomped on one and chipped a tooth, which one of the baby teeth collected.

The Guardian of Wonder's daughter didn't notice and began pacing around the room, the skirts of her red dress swirling around her knees. "The blue robots have been broken again? I thought I just put in a repair order-" She pinched her nose bridge and exhaled deeply. "Okay, here's what we're going to do, Benny, and do _not_mess this up. Write it down if you have to." She then proceeded to rattle off a series of confusing commands and numbers, her shoe tapping on the ground even faster than Bunny thumping his foot.

She concluded her long train of commands and turned around just in time to see her father stuffing her cookies underneath the chair cushion, just like Jack had. Her eyes flashed fire for a moment as she pinched her lips together, Mrs. Claus looking on disapprovingly at her husband.

_Maybe not so cute after all_, Jack amended as he quietly retracted his statement.

Poor North looked like one of his reindeer caught in headlights. Jumping to his fellow male's defense, Jack remarked, "Can't blame him, you know. Your gingerbread men are disgusting."

Everyone in the room fell silent and turned to look at him. Even Sandy jolted awake, taking one look at the situation before shaking his head pityingly at him.

"What?" Jack asked, holding his hands up in the universal "I'm innocent" gesture. "It needed to be said. For one, they're as hard as a rock, and two, I feel like I swallowed a mouthful of spices."

As the girl came closer, her heels making a distinct clacking noise against the cherry wood floor, Jack couldn't help but admire the picture The Daughter made, marred only by the girl's slightly unsteady sway: her long, slightly unkempt hair swirling around her pale face, her stormy, boiling hazel eyes flashing red, her scarlet lips arched downwards in extreme displeasure.

He heard North say from somewhere behind the girl, "It was nice teaming up with ya, Jack. We'll hold a good funeral for you."

He couldn't understand why, though, so Jack ignored the man and focused back onto the girl, who stood directly in front of him, her arms folded smartly against her sweater. "Jack, huh?" she commented, every word hitting his face like drops of acid.

"Yeah," he managed to reply, grinning as if it were all in good fun when really, he was as scared as Pitch running away from the Nightmares. "Jack Frost."

"Hm." The Daughter eyed his ratty hoodie, caked with frost, and then his bare feet before her eyes flicked back up to his. Her judging gaze caused him to bristle defensively, but she spoke first: "I'm Meredith S. Claus, nicknamed Merry, aged one-hundred-and-two," she declared, unfolding her arms to pull one back, her slender hand curling up into a tight fist. "I prefer to introduce myself before I knock someone out for insulting my gingerbread men."

Before Jack saw stars (literally), he couldn't help thinking that there was no way North's feisty Rudolph was feistier than Meredith S. Claus, no way, no how.

And what did the S stand for, anyway?

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**Answer Jack's question in the review box below!**

**Also, if Merry seems too "perfect", I apologize, but that is what she's trying to be. I will elaborate in the next chapter, but there are hints throughout this one of her character!**

**PS: and no, the S does not stand for sadist. Just saying.**


	2. Lipstick Smears

**2. Lipstick Smears**

"You, you-!" Clad in a plaid peacoat, Merry waved an accusing finger at the smug boy (albeit one with a black eye) sitting across the breakfast table, screeching wordlessly. She was wearing rose-colored high heels today, ones that matched her pale pink lipstick. Her makeup was a bit too thick, and made her look far too matronly.

"I've been told that my charm has rendered girls speechless, but this is a first," Jack remarked easily, much to Merry's obvious irritation, taking a bite out of the the pancakes Mrs. Claus had cooked for them all.

Observing the situation and enjoying the reaction Frost managed to pull out of his little girl, North slurped his coffee wordlessly. Tooth had left early that morning to direct the organization of the retrieved teeth, and Sandy was snoring at the other end of the table.

Recovering her use of words, Merry turned to the bunny rabbit on her right, who was munching noisily on a salad of greens and chopped carrots. "Bunny!" she wailed as she clutched her fork. "Say something!"

"Something," Bunny drawled, not wanting to get in between the Frost boy and Fire girl, as he dubbed her secretly.

Merry rolled her eyes, muttering "Immature" under her breath, before turning back to Jack. "Frost," she snarled, sitting smartly down into her seat, "I will _not_ rise to your childish bait."

"Spoilsport," the Boy of Ice taunted, blowing a sprinkle of snowflakes into her face. "I thought girls just want to have fun."

Daintily, she brushed the snowflakes aside and picked up her silverware and began cutting her pancakes into bite-sized pieces, placing a single slice into her mouth ever-so-carefully.

Annoyed that he was being ignored, Jack groaned. "How can you _do_ that?" he complained, waving his fork at her and incidentally splattering maple syrup across the table.

Gingerly, Bunny wiped his now-sticky fur off with a napkin, shooting a disgruntled glare across the table. North shushed him. "Just watch," he whispered.

Not noticing, Jack continued his tirade. "Why cut it up when pancakes are _supposed_ to be messy and oozy and syrupy? You're _supposed_ to stick a fork in it and just rip a hunk out of it!" The Guardian of Fun demonstrated, much to Merry's revulsion and her father's concealed amusement.

"You brute!" Merry gasped in a way that made Jack's blood boil and his toes curl. "Did your mother never teach you manners?"

"Hey," Jack defended, the words stinging slightly in his chest, because honestly, he didn't remember what his mother looked like, much less what she taught him, "_I_ didn't give myself this black eye!"

Merry took a moment to preen herself, quite proud of her work, before curtly replying, "Well, you deserved it."

"_Deserved_ it!" Jack's voice rose to a shrill pitch as he hollered across the table.

Like she had sucked on a mouthful of lemon, Merry's nose pinched up and her mouth puckered. "_Grown-ups_," she declared with an air of finality, "do not engage themselves in petty arguments."

Exasperated, Jack threw his hands up in the air, neither party realizing that the pancake attached to the fork in his hands flew up as well. North and Bunny watched, transfixed, as it sailed across the table. "But we're _not_ grown-ups!" Jack yelled.

Merry's answering reply was muffled as the pancake got her in the face.

Jack didn't wait to stride to the windows of the kitchen, fling one open, and jump out.

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"Papa," Merry repeated dully, "so you're saying that while _he's_ here, I have to show him around?"

North nodded gleefully, playing around with a spaceship made from ice. "Well, he has to do _some_ kind of work. He must work to earn his stay."

"_He_ has a name," Jack hollered from somewhere behind him.

Pretending she hadn't heard his protests, Merry leaned towards her father, lowering her voice. "But _Jack Frost_? He's crazy, and he can't do anything right! I'm perfectly capable of-"

"Meredith!" North warned, setting down his ice chipper. "You _will_ behave. You are not a child anymore."

At this, Merry paled and shut up immediately, stepping backwards and almost tripping over a bump in the rug. She caught herself on the edge of a table, teetering slightly.

"Why do you wear those things, anyway?" Jack asked, pointing at her heels. "They look awfully uncomfortable, and you can't even walk right."

In response, Santa's daughter flashed him a deadly glare before hooking a hand onto the back of his hoodie, dragging him through the door into the main workings of the workshop. "Shut up. You make one peep and I swear I'll deck you again."

"Peep," Jack teased, artfully leaping away from an elbow jab just in the nick of time.

Unlike the first time he'd (unofficially) toured Santa's Workshop (factory, more like), the Yeti and elves seemed to be unusually well behaved as Merry clip-clopped around, inspecting each toy assembly line. Even the helicopters and spaceships hovering overhead seemed to be less chaotic, perhaps fearful of the wrath they might incur.

"Well, this isn't fun," Jack muttered to himself, smirking as he tapped his staff lightly on the floor.

A trail of ice snaked out from the contact, conveniently placing itself right in the path of an elf goofing off with a Christmas ornament. Santa's little not-so-helpful slipped, the golden trinket flying out of the air and crashing against a Yeti's head. Said creature let out a startled roar and knocked over a train set, which flew through the air and clipped the wing of a soaring remote control jet.

Smoke burst through the jet's propellers and the aircraft dove down, down, down the many floors and burst into flames with a loud crash and a tiny explosion.

"Whoops," Jack commented cheerfully, sticking his hands into his hoodie pocket, but keeping one of his arms looped around his staff just in case.

Merry swiveled on her heel, clipboard tucked under her arm and eyes glinting a fiery red. To say the least, she was unamused.

"_Get you and your stupid hoodie out of here. NOW._"

Absently, Jack was struck by the similarity between Merry and the Easter Bunny: both hated him, and both were extremely easy to rile up. So, not heeding the SOS signals the Yeti were giving him behind Merry Claus's back, he cocked his head and grinned purposefully.

"And if I don't?"

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"Bunny!" Merry burst through the kitchen doors only to find Bunny filing his teeth carefully with a stalk of carrot.

The Easter guardian glanced up and rolled his eyes. "You look cross, kiddiwink. Something ragging ya?"

"Yes, something is 'ragging' me," Merry replied stoutly, running a hand through her tangling hair irritably. "_Jack Frost_ is ragging me."

"Ah," Bunny nodded wisely, shaving the carrot to bits with his teeth before swallowing it down. "Understandable."

"Tell him to _go away_!" Merry whined, slapping her hand on the wooden table. "He seems to take an extraordinary pleasure in detaining my work and in a whole, bungling things up on purpose. And-oh, now he's there _again_!"

Jack was floating outside the kitchen window, blowing cool air onto the glass pane and drawing pictures and making faces in the frost.

Bunny was out to get him once Jack had finished his caricature of "little" Bunnymund with his big, watery eye.

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"Now look at what you did!" Merry complained from the door, where she'd opened it up a smidge to yell out at Jack, who was looking perfectly comfortable in his cocoon of snow. Shivering as a brisk breeze blew by, she wondered if the way to get back at him was to shove him into a desert, not in the middle of the North Pole.

"What'd I do?" Jack sighed dramatically. "Everyone's pinning the blame on the hero these days."

"You got Bunny so upset that he went back home!" she accused, pointing a finger at him. "The least you could've done was thank him! He has probably saved _your_ butt several times already!"

"Saved _my_ butt?" Jack laughed disbelievingly, flapping a hand at the girl. "More accurately, I saved _his_ cottontail from being Nightmare-d off _more_ than once! If anything, _he_ should be thanking _me_!"

Merry, turning a shade of red that matched her father's coat, threw the door to the workshop open and stomped furiously over to his little pile of snow, which was stacked on the edge of the hilly slope. "You stay right there, Jack Frost, and you'll regret you ever said anything bad about Bunny!" she shouted, speeding up as Jack stood and began running backwards, laughing loudly.

As she chased him down the hill, the heel of her shoe caught on a clump of snow, and she fell forward, rolling down, down, down, a bloodcurdling scream ripping from her throat. Her hands felt desperately for some kind of purchase on the slope, but she kept on tumbling, head over heels, heels over head...her breath came out in short, quick, fearful bursts. She was headed straight for the cliffs.

Shocked still for a moment, Jack saw a flash of his last memories, his sister crying on the cracking ice, before snapping into action. Kicking a powder storm of snow out from beneath him as he flew up, he swooped down once he reached the girl, extending his arms to scoop her up from her rough descent.

Snow was clumped in her hair, and she shivered in his arms, the lack of warmth radiating from his body not making it any easier. Frosty droplets leaking from her eyes turned into black rivulets streaming down her face, and her lipstick was smeared off her lips, the pink staining her chin area.

Her pink shoes had fallen off, and she was now barefoot, just like him.

Jack landed as softly as he could in front of the workshop, unsure of what to make of the trembling, bedraggled girl.

"Don't..." Her voice was shaky and accentuated with a hiccup. "...laugh." Merry swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, before wiping her eyes with her sleeve. It smeared black across the bridge of her nose, and Jack had to fight despite the grave situation not to chuckle.

"You okay?" Jack asked as she stumbled to her feet and attempted to smooth her hair down and make herself look presentable.

Merry shook her head (he wasn't sure if it meant "No" or "Back off and don't talk to me"), clutching her wet clothing as she steadied herself. "...I owe you one, Frost," she muttered grudgingly.

She looked so distraught and bedraggled that Jack bit back a smug "I told you so" and attempted to cheer her up. "So, what did the S in your name stand for, anyway?" he asked, planting his staff into the snow.

Merry's head lifted up, surprised, and she laughed out loud: genuinely, this time. Jack blinked; even in her tired, shivering state, makeup smeared all over her face, when Merry laughed, when she truly laughed for the fun of it, she looked ten years younger.

"Snow," she replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It's Meredith Snow." She sighed softly. "I know, it's silly, but my father insisted."

"Merry," Jack blurted out, taking a step towards her unconsciously, "why do you wear so much makeup? Why do you insist on-" he waved a hand vaguely behind him towards the cliff, "-wearing those shoes? Why do you go through all the trouble to-"

Glowing, happy, child-Merry retreated back into 102-year-old Meredith, with her sagging shoulders and the frown that seemed to be dragged down by gravity.

"It's because I need to grow up, and I can't wait forever to grow old," she obliged him by replying.

"But _why_?" Jack persisted, but she just shook her head and returned to the workshop, no doubt to continue running the toy assembly line like nothing had ever occurred.

"But we have all the time in the world," he whispered to himself, watching her receding figure. "So why the rush?"

A memory hidden in the depths of his brain jiggled out of its place, North's voice ringing out inside his mind.

"_Bah. I have no time for children."_

The pieces of the puzzle began falling into place.

Her stubbornness. Her will to be a "grown up". Her insistence to work by herself, to be independent, to manage Christmas. The way she paled earlier in the day, when her father scolded her for complaining.

Why she put on the awful makeup that made her look ten times as old. Why she wore those stupid shoes.

Somehow, the feeling didn't sit well in his stomach.

Jack Frost needed some answers.

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**Chapter two, complete. Do you understand Merry a little better? I also finished outlining most of the story too! (Big thanks to all who reviewed and the favorites/story alerts!)**

**Please review and tell me what you think! I will only continue this story if there is some public interest, so if ya wanna let me know... ;-)**

**Why do you think Merry acts the way she does? Does she want to be a child, deep inside? Or does she merely want to earn her father's favor? Is she trying too hard to be an adult, or is she already accustomed to it? Will she change?**


	3. Knitting Needles

**PLEASE READ**

Excuse my self-indulgent moment of rambling but please, please pay attention to what I have to say. **Is this story worth continuing?** For the past two chapters, I've gotten 10 reviews from the same handful of people, while I noticed that I have 31 people following this story. Maybe this sounds stuck up or ungrateful, but without an actual response from you guys, I have no idea how I'm doing. Am I going in the right direction? Should I just terminate the story? I'm getting follows, but in comparison, not even a third of the amount of reviews; does this mean something? Is this story not good enough for a review, but only good enough for a favorite or a follow?

Reviews, for me, are pushes that send me towards the right direction, not only in terms of the plot, but as a writer as well. I want to improve, but I can't improve in a one-sided conversation. They motivate me to continue writing. They motivate me to start new projects, to be inspired once more. Without a good response, I feel like I'm wading in a swamp in the dark. I have no idea where I'm going, if this is a "good" story, or if I need to go back sometime and switch things up a bit.

That being said, thank you so much for the support you've given me. Thank you for those who have reviewed and helped me to keep on going. I don't want to sound ungrateful at all: I appreciate so much the 31 followers, the 15 favorites, the 649 views, and the one community (! :D) this story has been honored to receive. Reviews aren't the only thing on my mind, but it IS disappointing to see a story garner follows but no reviews, as if no one cares enough to drop a couple words of encouragement or even criticism.

Am I being too selfish? Am I being greedy? If so, I wholeheartedly apologize, but these are my true feelings, selfish or not.

Thank you so much, and for those still in school, good luck on finals.

* * *

**At first, I thought I wouldn't be able to upload this on time due to finals week. Well, procrastination had something else in mind.**

**Thanks to that, it's shorter than usual, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless.**

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**3. Knitting Needles**

"So, you, uh, knit, huh?" Jack eyed the sticks handed to him dubiously. Perhaps going to Mrs. Claus for his answers was the wrong decision.

"Sit down, child, the baby beanies aren't going to be made with you gawping there," Mrs. Claus commanded sternly, knitting a pink blanket rapidfire.

"Well, actually, I had a question," Jack began, though North's wife cut him off. "Start knitting. See, you just make a loop here and cross over the needles..." Briskly, Mrs. Claus taught him how to do a simple knit stitch before sitting him down in one of the rocking chairs in the large solarium. Elves sat with them, chasing around giant balls of yarn, while a Yeti sat nearby, knitting remarkably well, the needles he held made larger for his convenience.

Jack was distracted as he concentrated on knitting the soft beige yarn, fumbling with the knots and loops and whatnot. By the time he finally remembered his main objective, a good fifteen minutes of fumbling had elapsed, resulting in no answers and a tangled patch of yarn.

"Mrs. Claus?" he asked quickly before he forgot again.

"Yes, dear?" The matronly woman rocked back and forth in her chair, her fingers moving rapidly with dexterity.

Jack hesitated, unsure of how to begin before doing things the way he normally did them: by diving straight in. "Has Merry ever had fun before? Like, as a kid and stuff?"

The rocking chair halted mid-creak, and Mrs. Claus paused in her knitting. "Why do you ask?"

"Well...I was just curious, I guess," Jack mumbled, faltering under Mrs. Claus's pointed stare. "Like, the way she acts and stuff, it's not really...right."

The creaking began again as Mrs. Claus adjusted her glasses and resumed weaving the yarn together. "Don't worry about it, Jack. I understand that you have a desire to protect such things, but Meredith has always been more mature than most children."

Jack thought about the sopping wet figure that he'd watched trudge back into the workshop forlornly and sighed, looking down into the mangled rows of yarn that he'd knitted. If Mrs. Claus thought that he'd back down just because she said "Don't be nosy" (in different words, of course), she didn't know him very well.

He put down the knitting and stood, stretching gingerly until he heard his back pop. "Well, I'm going to go see if North needs any help. I don't seem to be doing much help here."

Mrs. Claus hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up as Jack strode across the room and opened the door.

North's workshop was directly across Mrs. Claus's solarium, evident by the giant _KNOCK FIRST OR I KILL YOU_ sign hanging across the door. As Jack stepped out of the knitting room, he spied a small figure tucked in a soft white sweater walk towards the door, a plate of cookies and milk in hand.

Merry's hair was damp and hanging off her back in a tangled heap; she must have taken a shower before going back to work. Immediately hiding in the shadows, Jack drew closer to the girl as she paused at the large wooden door, exhaling before rapping her knuckles on the mahogany. Climbing up on the little protrusions on the wall, Jack sneaked over towards the opposite corner of the hallway, a little ways from the workshop but close enough to hear North's hammer and the little _choo-choo_ of a toy train.

It took a large crash and a muffled curse before North's voice called out, "Who is it?"

"It's Merry." Seeming unusually fidgety, Merry worried her lip nervously as she hovered at the door. "I brought fresh cookies from the kitchen."Another pause, then: "May I come in?"

The cookies, Jack noticed from his perch on a hanging rafter, seemed to be remotely edible. Definitely not the work of Meredith S. Claus.

"Just put the cookies by the door, Merry, I'm busy. Did you need something?" North asked, still from behind a closed door. "Did the elves bungle something up?"

"No," Merry admitted, visibly weakening, "I just wanted to...talk."

The door opened and North's bearded face popped out. "Ooh, M&Ms," he commented cheerily, taking the plate from his daughter's outstretched hands. "You always know my favorite."

Merry beamed and nodded, cheeks pinkening to a rosy glow. "Papa, I-"

North cut his daughter off unintentionally as he placed one large, grizzled hand on her wet hair. "Sweetheart, I am very _very_ busy. I promise, we will have a day off where you, Mama, and I can go reindeer racing again together."

_Reindeer racing_, Jack mused, grinning. _That sounds fun._

"But right now Christmas comes first," North ended gently. "You understand, yes?"

"Of course, Papa." Merry stepped away from the door. "I'll...go check on inventory now."

"Good girl. Always so smart and organized, just like your mama." Beaming at his daughter, North stuffed four cookies into his mouth and shut the door tightly, no doubt going back to making toys out of ice.

Jack swung down from the rafters to trap Merry, barring her from the elevators. She yelped, stepping backwards as he suddenly appeared before her.

"What's _wrong_ with you?" she cried indignantly. "Scaring people like that, it's not good for their hearts."

"What's wrong with _you_?" Jack replied, twirling his staff around accusingly. "You look like a kicked puppy."

"You're seeing things," she dismissed, trying to go around him to get to the elevators.

He blocked her movement, leaning on his staff languidly. "I have 20-20 eyesight."

"Well, you should go to a doctor, then," Merry snapped, attempting to go around the other direction. She was blocked once more. "Maybe you should get your head checked out while you're at it."

"Ouch," Jack winced teasingly. "But really, what's ragging ya?"

"Oh, nobody, just a stupid boy with white hair and a stick who _refuses to leave me alone_," Merry returned with more than a little sarcasm. "Fine! I'll take the stairs." Sweeping her skirts around, Merry trotted towards the stairwell, turning around with a victorious grin when Jack didn't follow her.

"You owe me one," Jack reminded her dourly. Flying towards her, he stopped just at the edge of the stairway. "Answer my question." He paused. "And I resent your comment about my _staff_."

Santa's daughter rolled her eyes before sighing resentfully, her lips pinched in an unattractive manner. The two stood in silence, Jack waiting, Merry trying to figure out what to say.

"Santa was made for the children," she finally replied, eyes glued to the floor. "So his job always comes first."

The little bell around her neck began jangling wildly, and Merry pressed a hand to her ear. "Hello? Phil? WHAT?" Turning abruptly, she ran back towards the elevator. "Yes, I'm coming right now. Just...just keep calm. A little green isn't going to hurt anyone. DO NOT TOUCH THE AIRBRUSHES. I REPEAT, DO NOT-"

The doors dinged shut, and Jack grunted irritably. One more piece added to the puzzle.

Time to go back to Mrs. Claus.

* * *

Jack didn't waste time with small talk this time, stepping over a snoring elf and bumping an errant ball of pastel-colored yarn out of the way with his staff. It hit Mrs. Claus's foot, but the matronly woman didn't look up from her seat in the rocking chair.

"Has Merry ever had a normal Christmas?" the Guardian of Fun asked bluntly, waiting for Mrs. Claus to set her knitting down. "With her entire family, I mean."

It took a long pause and some awkward shifting on Jack's part for his question to be answered.

"We've never officially had a Christmas together. Nick is always exhausted by the time he returns," she admitted, a guilty look flashing across her face for a split-second before she brightened. "But Merry has been helping her father out with the family business since she was six, so I think she enjoys it, with the reindeer and all."

"But has she ever had a Christmas where she can be a kid?" Jack demanded, gripping his staff irritably. "Maybe she's not helping out because she wants to, but because that's the only way she can talk to her dad!"

Both Mrs. Claus and Jack fell silent after his outburst, Jack irritated but red from embarrassment while North's wife adopted a chagrined look on her face. The Yeti in the corner grumbled something unintelligible, and the rest of the elves stopped their tomfoolery to watch.

"Why are you doing this?" Mrs. Claus finally asked, defeated. "Nick doesn't need any more to worry about."

Jack took a couple seconds to think about it before deciding firmly, "It's because I'm the Guardian of Fun."

With that, he stepped back out of the door and strode across the hallway to North's workshop. He had some unfinished business with Santa Claus.

* * *

**How will North react? More importantly, how will Merry react to this? Will she be embarrassed but happy that Jack stood up for her? Or has Jack made a big misunderstanding?**

**Thanks for reading. Reviews means a lot to me.**


	4. Reindeer Games

_Thank you for listening to my selfish tirade last chapter. I'm glad most of you understand where I'm coming from. Enjoy this belated chapter. I will try to get working on the next one soon._

* * *

**4. Reindeer Games**

"North, we need to talk." Banging the door open without bothering to knock, Jack strode in purposefully, only to walk straight into a cloud of powdery snow.

The cold didn't affect him, but it did faze him, and he shook the ice out of his hair irritably. North was busy hammering at a helicopter made of ice, rubbing the shards away gently with a soft piece of cloth. The helicopter's propellers began turning slowly before sputtering out.

"_North_," Jack repeated, and North looked up, startled.

"Hm? Oh, Jack!" Cheerily, Nicholas St. North waved the boy over. "Come, come, look."

"No, I don't want to look." Sternly, Jack pushed the door shut. "North, listen to me. It's about Merry."

With the mention of his daughter, North's expression clouded over and he furrowed his brow. "Merry? What have you done to her?"

Jack caught his friend's eyes flickering over to a rifle in the corner and hurriedly interceded, blocking North's path to the gun, just in case. "No, what have _you_ done to _her_?"

"_Me?_" North set the helicopter down, clearly confused.

"She's lonely, North." Jack gripped his staff awkwardly. He'd never confronted anyone before, not like this. "She's lonely and tired and sorriest kid I've ever seen. She's never had a proper Christmas, with you and Mrs. Claus and her friends. She's never done things that kids should be doing, like having snow days and ice skating and coming home to hot chocolate by the fireplace. Work, work, work! That's all she does."

The Guardian frowned sullenly. "She obviously wants your attention, North. That's why she works-not because she likes to, but because that's the only way she can be noticed, because all you care about are the other _millions_ of children in the world. She never had any _fun_."

Stunned silent, North opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He paused, his whiteish beard, flecked with brown, masking most of his mouth.

"Well?" Jack challenged, itching the back of his leg with his toe in the stifling silence.

After a long pause, North finally cleared his throat. "Perhaps...perhaps I have not been as good a father as I thought. I am sorry."

Surprised, Jack gulped. "Y-You don't have to apologize to _me_."

"True, true," North chuckled quietly. "Jack, I would like Merry to have some fun. Please, on some day or another, take her out to town."

"W-What?" Jack stammered, confused. "Why would you-I thought you'd be-"

"Angry?" Slapping his knee, North accidentally jostled one of the ice figurines with his burly elbow. It fell to the floor, shattering into pieces, but the large man just chuckled. "No, not when I am in the wrong! So, will you take me up on the favor? As the Guardian of Fun?"

"Yeah." Jack grinned weakly. "Sure!"

Somehow, things just seemed too easy.

* * *

"How could you do that?" Merry cried, throwing her clipboard up into the air. It bounced harmlessly off of a Yeti, who scratched at his back absently before shuffling away. "How could you just...call it all off, just like that?"

He shrugged. "Why not? We ought to have some good fun; besides, it's only, what, March? Christmas is still a long way off!"

She stalked towards him furiously, punctuating each word with a sharp jab into his chest. "No. How _dare_ you interfere with my work and my private life. How _dare_ you assume you know _everything_ about me when, honestly, we've only met for two, three days!" Pausing to take a deep breath, Merry opened her eyes, the fiery hazel fading to a murky, calmer brown. "I _like_ working, Jack. I _like_ doing this, and it's not about something as silly as wanting to impress my father."

"So you can honestly say that has _nothing_ to do with it?" Jack accused, annoyed. How dare he? Of course he dared! He was only trying to be helpful, and this is what he got in return?

"I can honestly say," Merry enunciated, "that although I do miss my father's presence and, fine, sometimes I _do_ want a normal Christmas like every other kid in the universe, I truly _don't want to go with you into town_. I can't just drop everything and leave, Jack."

"Why not?" Jack noticed several Yeti and a good handful of elves stop in their work to watch the two, and lowered his voice self-consciously. "Why the heck not? Let loose, Merry, it'll do you some good."

Picking up her clipboard, Merry tucked it self-importantly under her arm and rolled her eyes. "Well, you should grow up and learn to take some responsibility. This factory will collapse if I'm not here."

Narrowing his eyes, Jack spat angrily, "Well, you should learn to act your age for once!"

"Get out of my sight, Jack," Merry shouted.

"You're welcome for doing you a _favor_," he snapped, heading to the nearest window and jumping out.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, Jack thought as he landed smartly in the snow. _I should have known. should have never involved myself with that ungrateful little brat. Putting my friendship with North on the line and everything-stupid, stupid, stupid..._

* * *

Merry scratched off several tasks on her clipboard angrily, snapping her pencil lead in the process. She glared at the object as if it were threatening her before tossing it in the trash, taking an identical one out of her pocket.

Her heart was still hammering wildly in her chest, and her face was hot with frustration. She couldn't concentrate on anything at this rate.

Sitting down by a nearby stack of building blocks, Merry flipped to a blank page on her clipboard and chewed on the end of her pencil.

_Jack Frost_, she wrote in large, angry letters across the sheet of paper. She drew a stick figure holding a staff directly under it, staring at it furiously before scribbling it out.

"That little snitch!" she grumbled aloud. "Going to Papa behind my back like that...unforgivable."

"Merry?"

At her father's voice, Merry stood, hurriedly hiding the clipboard behind her back. "Yes, Papa?"

North strolled forward, stroking his brown-streaked beard thoughtfully. "Jack came to talk to me about something."

"Jack?" _Again, that guy's name. Again, again, again!_ Merry rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Yes, he came to talk to me, and honestly, he had no right to assume, and of course I'm not going to leave and just _drop everything_-"

North interrupted her by placing his large hands onto his daughter's shoulders. "You've been stressed lately, Merry. You deserve and need a break."

"But-"

"_Listen_." North's voice was unusually soft. "Jack scolded me for not paying more attention to you. He was right. He wanted to protect your childhood, and as a Guardian, I felt very ashamed. I am sorry, Meredith."

"You don't need to apologize!" Merry protested. "You didn't do anything wrong, Papa!"

North chuckled. "But it's true!"

Merry sulked silently, and her father placed a warm hand on her shoulder, gazing down at her amusedly. "You yelled at him, didn't you?" he asked knowingly.

"Well, it wasn't his place!" she protested. "And I don't _want_ to go on a vacation..."

"You don't have to if you really don't want to," North relented, "but Jack did it because he was worried about you. You have to give the boy that, at least."

Her father's subtle reprimand stung, and Merry's sulk deepened as she felt the familiar twinge of guilt stab her heart.

Maybe she did overreact just a _little_ bit...

"Make up with him." North patted her shoulders and gave them a firm shake. "I don't want your fight stinking up the place."

* * *

"Jack?"

Immediately, Jack bristled and, clutching his staff tighter, turned his back towards the door. _Is she coming back to grovel?_ He smirked. _In any case, I'll never accept whatever she says._

The door creaked open, and the clacking of high heels that Jack expected to hear was replaced with the soft shuffling of...socks?

He kept his head down even until two feet, clad in fuzzy green socks, came into view.

"Jack, let's talk."

Keeping his eyes hooded by his hair, Jack continued to ignore Merry's proddings, relishing in her growing frustration. _That'll teach her._

"Fine." Merry's voice was clearly irritated, and one of the feet began to tap angrily on the floor. "If you won't talk, make a bet with me."

_A bet?_ Jack's ears perked up.

"Reindeer racing. You win, I'll leave you alone. I win, you listen to what I have to say."

The offer was too tempting to resist. "But I don't know how to ride a reindeer," Jack began to say, stopping short when he saw what Merry wore-or rather, didn't wear.

All traces of makeup wiped off her face and hair bundled up in a messy ponytail, Merry stood plainly in front of him in a large hoodie and jeans. Without the cakey foundation on her face, Jack noticed that Merry in fact had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose.

Absently, he thought that they reminded him of footprints across a canvas of fresh snow.

Her eyelashes were fine and thin, and her eyes seemed softer without the customary outline of kohl around them. She had a few acne scars here and there, as well as a birthmark near her ear that Jack hadn't noticed before.

This Merry, honest, plaintive Merry, who didn't put on facades, didn't mask her faults, and didn't pretend to be older than she actually was, was a Merry that Jack was willing to listen to. He repeated the phrase that he was about to say, slowly and distantly.

This was a strange Merry. But Jack was willing to adjust.

At Jack's assent, Merry smiled victoriously. "Well, you can fly, right?"

* * *

Rudolph was hellfire on hooves, Jack decided, as he watched Merry wrestle the animal out of its stall. The reindeer snorted and stamped its sharp, angular feet, digging them into the ground as it eyed Jack warily.

Merry, however, seemed unaffected by the danger Rudolph posed, rubbing the creature's red nose affectionately. "Oh, I missed you, Rudy," she murmured to the vicious animal, cooing at it and petting it in the most cloying way possible.

Jack rolled his eyes impatiently. "Can we cut the smooching short and get on with what we came here for? I'm a busy man."

Merry paused in her 'smooching' and frowned at the boy. "I thought you were the one who _wanted_ me to act your age."

"I meant acting fun, not acting like an idiot," Jack replied briskly, scooping up a snowball and molding it tightly in his fists. He blew a cloud of frost over it, and it glowed, hardening and clumping together easily.

At his jibe, Merry narrowed her eyes dangerously, swinging a leg over the reindeer, who shook out his fur as if he knew what was about to transpire. "You better watch it. Rudolph's the fastest reindeer around."

Jack smirked. "First one to catch the snowball wins."

He passed the snowball to a Yeti, who grunted and hefted it in his hands. Using an old piece of bark as a bat, the Yeti tossed the ball high up into the air.

Jack braced his feet against the cliff, preparing to push off. Merry leaned closer into Rudolph's neck, bracing herself for the burst of speed, while Rudolph eyed the snowball knowingly.

With a distinct 'ping!' and a huge storm of snow, the ball shot off and the three racers with it.

Feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Jack couldn't help but whoop in delight, his eyes trained on the soaring snowball. To his surprise, he heard a giddy scream to his right, and found Rudolph galloping ahead of him, Merry's chestnut-colored hair flapping in the wind as she laughed with unbridled excitement. Both rider and reindeer gave him a smug grin as they passed.

"C'mon Wind," Jack muttered irritatedly, taking off with another burst of speed, "we can't let a _reindeer_ beat us."

Quickly catching up to the pair, Jack and Merry went head to head, each beating the other by a small margin before the other regained the distance. Their eyes flickered in between each other and the soaring snowball, which was falling into an abyss of powdery snow.

_C'mon Wind_, Jack thought furiously. _One last time._

Using the remainder of his energy, Jack shot in front of Merry and Rudolph, swooping down just in time to scoop the snowball out of the air before it crumbled into the abyss. He floated out of the cavern onto flat ground, where he collapsed, his chest heaving but snowball clutched safely in his hand. Jack grinned cheekily as Merry and Rudolph (who looked extremely peeved) landed softly on the ground next to him.

"I win," he taunted as he gasped for breath, Merry slipping off of the reindeer, her breathing following a similar pattern.

"Yeah, but that was fun, wasn't it?" Her cheeks, unlike Jack's, which would always remain pale and cold, were flushed red. Jack wondered if this was the difference between an immortal being and a half-human...whatever she was.

"Yeah," Jack admitted, feeling his stubbornness give out somewhere deep within him. "It was."

Merry wiped the sweat off her face with her sleeve, resting an arm on Rudolph's back. "Well then, true to my word, I'll leave you alone. Thanks for coming with me."

"No, wait!" Jack scrambled to his feet, the snowball plopping to the ground, unnoticed. Merry turned back to him with a hopeful expression on her face. "I'll listen."

* * *

They sat together in the snow, Merry not caring that her pants were slowly getting soaked from the melting ice and Jack just used to it in general.

Merry twiddled her thumbs hesitantly before admitting, "I was wrong for yelling at you. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Jack answered.

"It was..._kind_ of you to worry about me, but it felt intrusive at the time."

"Okay," Jack repeated.

"So...thanks, I guess." Merry coughed awkwardly. "And well, I was wondering if we could compromise. I admit that I did start working in the family business to get my father's attention, but now...it's too large a part of my life to ignore. So thank you for getting me into the Christmas spirit of fun, but I'm far too invested in my job to drop it at a moment's notice."

Jack was quiet for a short time, brooding over her words only momentarily before nodding. "I get it. Apology accepted." He grinned, a conciliatory gesture. "Anyway, it's only March, and Christmas is still a long ways off."

Merry pinkened, giggling and running a hand through her disheveled hair. "That's right, isn't it?" Brushing the snow off her jeans, Merry stood up and went to mount Rudolph, who was absently digging through the snow. "Come on, let's go home and have some hot cocoa."

At that moment, Jack felt a chill travel through him, from the tips of his ears to his toes. Perhaps it was the brisk wind or the wet snow that caused the shiver.

Belatedly, on the flight back to the workshop, he realized that he was Jack Frost: he didn't get chills.

* * *

_Merry tends to act like a goody-two-shoes most of the time. Please forgive her._


End file.
